


bravely, if clumsily

by Kazura



Category: Disgaea (Games)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 11:40:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18314600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazura/pseuds/Kazura
Summary: Xenolith reflects. What was he doing when he was this young king’s age?He almost laughs when he remembers. He was trying to grow up. He had to.





	bravely, if clumsily

**Author's Note:**

> vent piece

"That is an order from your Overlord!"

The first time he heard the young king utter such words—directed at him, no less—he couldn’t help staring in disbelief.

Someone so small, so tiny, has spoken in words so firm and strong. What was he doing when he was this young king’s age?

He almost laughs when he remembers. He was trying to grow up. He had to. He had just lost his parents. He had a little sister to look after. And the task had already daunted him.

Their family was small. His parents, him, his sister. Just them. But it was plenty. He had never wanted for anything else.

But when half of his little kingdom had disappeared—in their efforts to save another member of their family—he found himself at a complete loss. Their little cabin, small and cozy with just the four of them, was then bare of laughter, far too eerily quiet. What first pierced through it after that loss, that deafening silence, are the sharp cries of his baby sister.

And he knew he had to act. He couldn’t just sit there. He couldn’t just wait for the nightmare to end.

So he had stood up. And he had struggled. Struggled and still failed, in more ways than one, but his main goal is still realized.

His sister still lives. The deadly ticking time bomb he had had for a millennium now lay at their feet, having been reduced to shards by the combined determination of those whom he had only been seeing as children until then.

Maybe he had been the child.

Maybe he hadn’t really grown up. He just thought he did.

He wonders, briefly, if his parents would be disappointed in him.

His little sister likely is. Who would accept someone like him as an older brother?

He thought he hardly cared.

He does.

"I won't let you disobey me even if you die!"

He wants to cry.

He wants to entrust himself, his own life, if only for once, to someone else.

And this child, this young king, whose conviction and determination have proven much stronger than his, is someone he can’t help wanting to trust.

Will this child welcome him, despite his faults?

Will this child allow him to continue existing, despite his guilt?

If this child does, is it possible he won’t be the only one to either?

In his desperation, he manages a crooked, bitter smile.

For once, he allows himself to hope again.

If he’s still a child, perhaps in the presence of this king, he can grow into someone acceptable. Acceptable enough to live. Acceptable enough to love.

He’d like that.

**Author's Note:**

> Changed the translation of Laharl's second line there.
> 
> For more ways to find me, [here's my Carrd](https://artwaltzed.carrd.co/).


End file.
